


As Long As There Is A Chance

by Poztupim



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: Angst, Deshaan, F/F, Gen, Past Relationship(s), Plague, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:07:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22241551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poztupim/pseuds/Poztupim
Summary: The Vestige travels south to her homeland of Deshaan. But while the land itself has not changed much, Vher has become a different person in those hard years, first as a Pact Ranger and then as a Coldharbour slave. But when confronted with her past and a plague that threatens to eradicate her home town, old memories will resurface and old feelings will need to be dealt with.
Relationships: Female Dunmer Vestige/Aerona Berendas, Female Vestige/Aerona Berendas
Kudos: 3





	As Long As There Is A Chance

**Author's Note:**

> This is my take on the Quarantined Serk questline in Deshaan. The protagonist is my current Vestige. An image as well as a short look into her character can be found on my tumblr blog https://poztupim.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> Enjoy!

_A soft breeze blew across the rolling hills of western Deshaan, bringing with it the smell of blooming goldkanet and other fragrant springflowers, enveloping Serkamora and its surroundings with a heavenly scent. A picnic basket standing on a blue-white checkered blanket, positioned just beneath the wall separating the town from the northern catacombs. Rising laughter, a gentle touch, forbidden talks about the world and the gods, youthful heresy nobody will ever hear, kisses beneath the warm sun._

Memories flooded back into her mind when she rode across the narrow basalt bridge, spanning across a gorge filled with fresh magma from the nearby volcano. The Tormented Spire, where Sadal is bound forever, where Tanval sacrificed his life and restored the honor of House Indoril, where she became known as the Savior of Stonefalls. It fell behind her, discarded from mind and heart, another battle, another sacrifice, another survival by sheer luck. She was already used to live through other people – people she cared about – dying in her stead. It was her very personal curse, laid upon the girl who survived Coldharbour by a cruel fate or a crueler god. Even then she was not responsible for her leaving that realm of horrors alive: Lyris, her rescuer from a damp and cold dungeon cell, who sacrificed her own freedom to give them a chance to flee.

_Lyris. Sings-With-Reed. Garyn. Tanval._

She could see them whenever she closed her eyes. Dreaming of times which had passed she didn‘t notice that something was awry. She didn‘t smell the blooming goldkanet, the springflowers of Deshaan, which filled the air with their aromatic fragrances whenever the sun warmed the land and colored the hills in a vibrant green. The warm breeze carried scents: Rotting flesh, warm putrid fumes, which made her stomach twist and turn in disgust, accompanied by the sound of soft moans and silent pleas for help. Since she left Coldharbour she grew more receptive of such nuances in the air, like vibrations that passed through it and gave her a feeling of the situation awaiting her around the next corner of her life-path. She felt despair, hope and deceit lying before her. Right in front of her. This was not any town, this was her home! So she rode up the way into the Serk.

The first thing noticed by her was the closed gate of the graveyard, guarded by two heavily armed soldiers and a drove of people standing or sitting in front of it as if waiting to be let in. It was weird, the catacombs as well as the graveyard before them were never closed off – in a culture with such an emphasis on ancestor worship such an act was almost sacrilege! When Vher came past the first few houses on the outskirts of Serkamora, she decided to leave her horse back here and proceed on foot. Shortswords dangling from her belt, a bow and quiver strung to her back, she approached the central stair to the higher ground, only to be intercepted by a civilian asking her about her business in the Serk. The voice was familiar. Very familiar! A shiver ran down her spine as she turned on her heels, meeting the gaze of a young dunmer woman, looking suspiciously at her blades and then back at her face. She was of medium height, light blueish skin, wearing the typical attire of a local noble in a backwater settlement: A washed out red shirt and white trousers, stained with the marks of hard work, with soil and dust from the surrounding fields. Her eyes were curious, a far lighter shade of red, almost pink …

_Aerona!_

She asked who this stranger was, riding into town, heavily armed, clad in leather from head to toe, bearing the sigils of House Dres on her saddle-bags and vest. She asked what a Dres would do so far to the south, if she was afflicted with the plague and looking for healing, looking for the Maulborn. Of course she did not recognize Vher: Leaving the Serk at her seventeenth birthday, she went to Davons Watch, to be trained in the skills of a Pact Ranger, dreaming of a glorious future, filling the bodies of heretics and monstrous daedra with arrows, all in the name of the holy Tribunal. That felt like a long time ago. Even if only 4 years had passed, Vher had become another person. Her formerly waist long red mane was cut short, not even reaching her neck, her features had become even more angular and stern, a near constant frown on her brow. The torment in the daedric realm had left her as only a shadow of her former appearance, now gaunt and slim, not tall and slender. Instead of red and violet dresses she wore brown leather, instead of lavender hues she smelled of steel and blood. This was not the ambitious girl who left for Stonefalls, this was a broken „savior“, who made a pilgrimage from one bloody battlefield to the next, not deserving any rest and respite, carrying on until a lucky arrow or a well aimed spear thrust ended her warriors life. 

„… are you all they sent?“ Aerona asked. She was obviously hoping that the Tribunal or at least one of the Houses had sent help with the plague. Since Vher heard about it for the first time and since she was rather unwilling to reveal her identity, since the girl that left, that Mavherys Delovin, was as good as dead to her, after all she had to suffer in her life, she decided to play along for a while. Staying in the role of Vher, Hero of the Ebonheart Pact, Hand of Dres, she offered her help to her former friend, who looked at best close to a breakdown, at worst already far beyond it. „What can I do to help? You said you lost your brother in the current troubles?“ Aerona confirmed her dilemma, due to the situation with the plague running rampant, a few people already so far gone that they turned into berserking husks and the Maulborn walling themselves off inside the catacombs, her brother Dethisam has gone missing.

_Dethisam. When he heard about them, he fell on his arse and laughed for almost ten minutes straight. His sister and the consuls daughter. He found it hillarious, mostly because he imagined for himself the reactions the parents of both would have. The Delovin family was steady in their support of House Dres, while the Berendas were a sub-house of Redoran. It would not end pretty for them but for a mischievious brother their love made a perfect target for jokes and taunts. They would never hear the end of it._

After hearing Aerona out and promising her to help, both set out to ask around town where Dethisam might have gone. Vher wasn‘t concerned that her cover would blow. No one would recognize this husk of a woman as the former consuls „fair daughter“ anymore. Some people told them that he was seen yesterday visiting some victims of the plague, their uncle told them that he was fuming about the Maulborn, locking themselves in the catacombs with their „cure“, leaving the townsfolk alone and without protection against the plague. All seemed to point towards him going up the stairs and into the quarantine zone. But since the guards would let no outsiders in and even the townspeople had trouble entering, excluding Dethisam of course, who was the current consul and therefore in contact and on visiting terms with the Maulborn. The main gate was off limits, it was too well guarded and even though that would be no problem for Vher, even she didn‘t believed that it was right to attack or kill people without solid proof of their wrongdoings or their dangerous nature.

After nightfall a lone shadow slipped over the southwestern barricade, unseen by the guards. When the patrol went east towards the main gate, the figure crept up to the secondary gate and unlocked it. Aerona entered, firm in her will to find her brother, but as a civilian completely unarmed and untrained. She had agreed to stay behind Vher and let her do the dirty work. What proof they didn‘t had while working out their plan, they found behind the gate in abundance: Rotting corpses were roaming through the graveyard, feasting on bodies pulled out of their fresh graves, while the Maulborn were non-chalantly walking or sitting among them, neither party acknowledging the presence of the other. It was equally strange and bloodchillingly terrifying – those were not risen dead from the catacombs, Aerona could still recognize some as former citizens of Serkamora, who were afflicted by the plague and brought into the quarantine zone. Both the realization that the Maulborn were far from innocent healers and the confirmed urgency of their search for Dethisam, if they still hoped to find him alive, made them head straight for the catacombs, Vher ambushing some husks and patrollers from the shadows, Aerona staying hidden and following as soon as the coast was clear. When the door opened an icy chill enveloped them, weird stenches being blown by a subterranean wind into their faces.

„By the Three, this place chills me to the bones. Let‘s see if we can find my brother and then get out of here.“ Vher agreed: This place had a vile energy permeating its very being, bringing up memories of cold blood running down her back and fiery lashes biting into her skin. She could see them in their wicked armor, walking among broken shells, that didn‘t even deserve the term of „slave“. A cold grey sky churning above an equally cold earth. They went on, coming across several dying or dead citizens, who told them about the horrors the Maulborn unleashed. It was a cult, but no one knew who they were serving. They infected the people of the Serk with the plague, experimenting on them to find the „right dosage“ to turn everyone into an obedient plague husk. They were both cruel and insane, their network of agents spanning almost all of Deshaan already. A silent dread settled in their stomaches as they proceeded into the deeper parts of the catacombs. Then they found him.

_Two House Conferences were called together. The house war was only recent, the wounds not even slightly healed and now both families were confronted with a forbidden love between their two daughters. As everyone realized both were not guilty of anything wrong but that their relationship was problematic for both families, as their respective houses made it dangerous to go against their law against fraternization with the enemy, a decision was made. The consuls daughter was sent to Stonefalls to be trained as a Ranger, effectively leaving Deshaan for several years. Aerona had to stay with her family back in Serkamora while being forbidden from travelling any further north than the regions border. It was heartbreaking how the hope of these young women was crushed for the greater good of their families. Vher understood it now: If it had become public both their families would have been brutally punished by Dres and Redoran for fraternizing with each other. It was the only way to save face. Still it hurt nonetheless._

Dethisam was lying on the ground, pale and worn out from his obvious fight with the plague. A fight that he was about to loose or that he had lost already. He told them about the plague, the Maulborn‘s plan to unleash it across Deshaan and their supply and laboratory down in the deepest part of the catacombs. Than came his request: They should leave him behind and save the people by annihilating the supply depot of the cult, destroying every last bottle of serum that was produced and stored there. That he already succumbed to the plague and would rather commit suicide than hurt anyone after turning into a husk. Vher understood. She agreed. It was for the greater good and his sacrifice was noble. But then she looked down and saw her: Aerona was clinging to her brother, tears streaming down her cheeks. She was begging him not to give up, to come with them, to seek treatment for his illness. She would not let him go. As she was holding him, he could not reach for his poison and when the tremors started, announcing his defeat and the plagues victory over him, Vher came to a decision. She drew steel. Aerona looked up when she felt something warm against her face. Her companion only had one dagger in her hand and was looking down on her with a solemn and guilt-laden face. She looked down again. Her brothers eyes were already glazing over. A dagger stuck in his throat, a pool of blood forming beneath his neck. She touched her cheek. When she drew her hand away, it was red. It wasn‘t her own blood, it was Dethisam‘s. Then she fell. Vher retrieved her dagger, positioned Aerona, after making sure she was just unconscious, in a dark corner, so she would not be noticed by anyone passing by, then she went down to the laboratory, to end this plague that had ruined her home and broken her friends. She showed no mercy. With cold hatred she struck any Maulborn down, rampaged through the storage depot and brought an end to the plague in the Serk. When she left the catacombs she retrieved Aerona, who was still out cold after seeing her brother being murdered, and carried her down into the town. She stopped at her uncles house, snuck in and laid her upon a spare bed. Without turning back or even glancing at her, Vher left the house, saddled her horse and rode off.

_You may hate me for what I have done. You may never forgive me and that is your good right. I am not the girl you fell in love with, I am a murderer, a slayer of beast and men, I am a fugitive of Coldharbour, a coward and a liar. My life is not my own anymore. My soul is not my own anymore. I fight so that the people of Morrowind may be at peace. I kill so that others may live. I became a monster, so that others don‘t need to turn into one._


End file.
